The Values to be Wanted
by LunaDiamond
Summary: [Cross-posted from AO3] Somewhere along the line, Kudou Shinichi stares into the mirror to find that he doesn't recognise the colour of his own eyes anymore. HeiShin & KaiShin - Future AU


Notes: I'm cross-posting some of my longer stories from my drabble collection (FB:FWL) from Archive of Our Own to so there'll probably be a slight tsunami of drabbles later

-.-.-

Sometimes, when Shinichi stops and closes his eyes, in the darkness, the pitch black, he sees Ran, from that night, with a bullet wound in her forehead and blood splurting down her face.

He hears the screams of the people he could've saved, but he hadn't. The darkness envelops him, and draws him in, until he can see nothing but greyscale in the once-colourful world.

His dreams are filled with death, empty and hollow, and his voice resounds against the invisible walls that he feels, but can't see. It feels like he's gone blind and deaf at the same time, and it frightens him to no end.

He's trapped in these visions, trapped, caged and with nowhere to hide himself.

He tries to reassure himself that he's fine; that he's living a _normal_ life now, and Gin's dead, shot in the heart by the detective himself, with a forceful and vengeful _bang._

But he looks at his hands and he traced the life lines along his palms, absentmindedly wondering about the dangerously short length of the lines, but soon after, he brushes the thoughts away like a stray fly.

And day by day, he's more lost than ever, and sometimes, he's still waiting in front of the Mouri detective agency for the smiling brunette, to find that he's late for class and that his childhood friend isn't climbing down the stairs to join him, and never will be again.

It wrenches at his heart, but he forces his legs to walk, and pastes a mask onto his entire being all over again, regardless of if he can breathe in it or not.

University was similar to high school to no end, and Shinichi finds himself sometimes taking out his Teitan uniform from his wardrobe, before shaking his head and placing it back with care.

And he found, at one of the social justice lectures, Hattori Heiji waving him over, apparently gotten into the same university. The Osakan grinned at the sight of his eastern counterpart, but it soon faded when he caught sight of Shinichi's eyes.

They were blank. A once-rich deep sapphire the western detective has come to love was faded, the ocean itself washed away.

Heiji knew something was wrong when his best friend didn't contact him for up to months at a time, but he let it go, with the gut feeling telling him that he shouldn't pry.

He's regretting that now.

Day after day, he sees the boy grow weaker, but still forcing a smile. He's even forced the boy to try to eat, by stuffing a spoonful of coffee-flavoured ice-cream down his throat, but he refused to swallow.

Heiji doesn't know what to do.

He's at the library during the break, looking through textbooks on insomnia and digestive disorders, and he spots a boy.

Well, that's a plain way to put the fact out, isn't it?

The boy, engaging in talk with Saguru, could even be passed off as Shinichi's identical twin, save for the birds nest hair, and the sightly indigo orbs filled and flickering with life and mischief.

He stands there in front of the shelf dumbfounded and finger still resting on a medical workbook's spine, gaping slightly, until the Shinichi-lookalike comes up to him and waves a hand in front of his face.

"You alright there?" He whistles, and Heiji snaps out of his shock, and gives a nervous laugh.

"I'm fine, ya just look like someone I know," He replies.

The teen raises both eyebrows, before his expression converted to exasperation, "Sheesh, do I look so much like this Kudou person everyone talks about?" He waves an idle hand around.

"Ah, sort of, does everyone say the same thing?" Heiji asked, eyes scanning back over the medical section.

"Pretty much," He huffs, and grins, "Kuroba Kaito, at your service," He winks and a white rose pops out from his hand. It throws Heiji for a second.

"Woah, woah, ya swing that way?" Heiji teased, and Kaito pastes a hurt puppy face on, "Geez, sorry, I'm Hattori Heiji. Heiji's fine, I'm pretty informal."

"You from Osaka?"

"Hell yep. Great place, it is," The Osakan hums, and crouches down to the lower shelves to resume his book search.

"Medical workbooks?" Kaito crouches down too, "You a med student?"

"No, it's just.." Heiji pauses, picking at his words, "My friend's pretty sick."

"Kudou?" Kaito takes a wild guess, and his new tanned friend turns around to look at him with bemused eyes.

"How did ya know?"

"Well, rumours all say you two are pretty much stuck at the hip," Kaito laughed, and _boy_ , Heiji thinks, does it sound like Shinichi years ago.

"Wait, what?! Seriously?" Heiji turned, flustered, "No, we're just best buds, after all the shit and.. yeah!" He stammered eloquently.

Kaito wriggled an eyebrow, "What did you two go through?"

"Good afternoon, Hattori-kun," Saguru walked over, Hound of Baskervilles in hand. Heiji twitched at the voice, "Just great."

"Oi, isn't that Kudou?" Kaito gestured over to one of the further areas, towards a skinny boy and his signature cowlick, sitting at one of the tables and a thick history textbook open on the desk. His complexion _screamed_ malnourished, and his eyes tired, lurking with unspoken fears.

"Oh.. yeah, it is," Heiji's voice dropped to a whisper. Something inside him lurched, seeing the formerly enthusiastic friend in such a state, and it was as overwhelming as the number of deaths Shinichi averagely encounters every week.

"He doesn't look too well, does he?" Saguru asked voice low, but his tone suggested that the question didn't need any answer. There was nothing to answer with.

-.-.-

Kaito hasn't seen his favourite detective, the one that could give him the most thrills, and the one with an unspoken pact with since a year ago. He scans over the crowd every full moon, but finds no sign of the shrunken-then-reverted detective. He still sees his face in the paper, so the thief's convinced that the boy's safe.

But not necessarily healthy.

Sometimes, he has the screaming and kicking urge to just storm fort into the Kudou Mansion and force feed the boy, or drug him to make him go to sleep for a decent while, but he holds back. Something like that won't reverse the Mouri girl's murder. He holds back because he thinks it's none of his business.

He holds back.

Kaito knocks on Shinichi's dorm room on a Saturday (And just next door, too), and waits. The door opens almost lazily, and out steps the detective he hasn't seen for almost two years. Shinichi greets Kaito with a smile, "Come in."

"Ah, Kudou-kun, I have some questions about the law exam we did the other day, and I heard you're one of top scorers," He chirped, but he could feel his exaggerated smile hurting around the sides.

"Oh, yes from last week, right?" He replied, walking over to a shelf where, Kaito guesses, he keeps his work.

"Yes," He replies stiffly, looking around the detective's room. It's kept neat, almost to the point of plain, and the smell of black coffee lingers around the room.

The rest of the evening drifted through like passing scenery, and Kaito slipped little questions in every now and then, acting simply out of curiosity. Shinichi answers some with ease, others with a slight uncertainty.

Kaito turned these answers over and over in his head, as his own doorknob to his room clicked.

-.-.-

Shinichi wonders.

The boy just then – Kuroba Kaito, was it? – bore an uncanny resemblance to someone he's sure he's met before.

Sure, he had quite the shock when he first knocked on his door, seeing his doppelganger standing there with an expression hinted with worry.

Of course, he noticed the questions fired, but he answers them anyway. Something about the boy makes him trust him. He's not sure if it's these eyes that bore into him, with a warm familiarity, or the cheerful demeanour.

And he sits crosslegged on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and he realizes, as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, that the heavy weight constantly sitting on his back was lighter now, and he feels just a tiny bit more free than before.

He smiles, and it feels wonderful, like picking up an old, greyscale photo album, full of memories.

-.-.-

Heiji, in the next few weeks, can't help but notice Shinichi slowly crawling out of his shell, and smiling more, air around him no longer so silent and deathly, and he's secretly so grateful to Kaito, who invests the time and effort he does into helping his friend.

So when he's walking through a shortcut to his favourite ramen shop, he freezes dead in his tracks.

Across from him, around the corner, Kaito's pushing Shinichi into a kiss. The younger's clawing at the magician's arms, and his protests muffled.

And Heiji's thoughts blank.

Before he knows, he's dropped everything and stormed up to the brunette and lands a fist square in the cheek. The latter flinches and slams onto the ground, before he twitches when he looks up.

"Heiji."

"Kuroba," The Osakan lets the poison drip from his voice, "What do you think you're doing?"

The boy on the ground lets out a shuddering sigh, and holds his hands up, "I can.. explain."

"Doesn't cut it," Heiji growls, before turning to his self-proclaimed best friend and wincing. His eyes were wide and grey – empty – again.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," Kaito whispers low, hand moving away from his cheek, before glancing up with a little, regretful smile and pulling himself up, "Forgive me, tantei-han?"

Shinichi's head snaps up with ferocious speed, "KI-"

"Shit, you were – all along!" Heiji roared, lunging at the Ekodan, but he was sidestepped, and when he turned, Kaito's smile was still there, but there was no humor.

"See you."

And both the Beikan and Osakan saw pink smoke, before looking up again to find the alley empty.

-.-.-

Throughout the week, Shinichi was in a daze. Kaito was sick all week long, in his dorm, and he even screamed at Saguru – his roommate by unlucky circumstances – to get out, so the blonde had no choice but to crash at his neighbour's dorm, which happens to be Shinichi's, and since he's rooming alone, he welcomes his blonde companion in.

"I really don't comprehend what has gotten into Kuroba," Saguru sighs while taking a sip from his cup of Earl Grey, and looks over to Heiji, who insisted to come, scrolling through the news on his phone, and Shinichi.

Shinichi sits on the sofa, absentmindedly clicking through the channels in rapid succession.

"And we have a spare-"

"Welcome to the Junior Masterchef-"

"So this, folks, is how you eat a sausage-"

"Kaitou KID was shot today at his newest heist-"

"At Bunnings Warehouse-"

Pause.

 _Rewind._

"Holy shit, Kaitou KID was shot-!" Heiji slammed his palm onto the wooden table, staring at his phone screen, while Saguru and Shinichi both stared at the television in disbelief.

The footage replayed to show KID – no, Kaito, - holding a red glimmer of a gem against the moonlight (Saguru swears the Ocean Sapphire is blue), before he jerks violently and titters over the edge, limp.

Shinichi sat rigid, breath and voice caught in his throat.

"Police have found the body and forensics have confirmed that the mighty Phantom Thief is not breathing, sustaining a sniper bullet in the lungs. Nakamori-keibu has confirmed that KID's identity is indeed…"

And Shinichi slumps back against the couch, sound fading, light fading.

And the world gradually plunges into greyscale again.


End file.
